


A Crime of Fashion

by jadehqknb



Series: KuroDai Week 2019 [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Day 5, KuroDai Week 2019, M/M, background hint of oikasa, fashion police au, loose use of the prompt, my excuse to show off the boys in hot clothes, self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-10 18:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18665878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadehqknb/pseuds/jadehqknb
Summary: Daichi gets accosted by overzealous fashionistas hell-bent on styling the life out of him. Or at least make him what they deem presentable for his first official date with Kuroo.





	A Crime of Fashion

**Author's Note:**

> KuroDai Week 2019, Day 5: ~~Mercenaries AU~~ / ~~Fashion~~ Police AU

Oikawa, were he inclined to wear one, could set his watch by Sawamura Daichi.  If ever a man embodied the aspirations of the song “Be a Man” from Mulan, Sawamura is the one. Sure and steady, strong and consistent. Never late for class (never skipping either), homework always done. Just as determined and tenacious in volleyball as ever, even without being a starter. More so because of it no doubt.  

All that is to say, there was a certain rhythm he’d adopted to being Sawamura’s roommate. Which was why, on a nondescript Friday afternoon, Oikawa was startled to find Sawamura contemplating the contents of his free standing wardrobe.

Leaned against its wall, Oikawa asked through a grin, “Hot date tonight, Sawa-chan?”  

“Uh huh,” Sawamura replied as if it were obvious.  

Oikawa’s grin widened, a laugh nearly falling out stalling only when Sawamura plucked out two (rather old and faded) collared shirts, asking, “Which do you think?”  

Blinking rapidly, Oikawa’s expression morphed from amused to horrified when he realized Sawamura was serious. He planned on wearing some monstrosity that probably didn’t fit him anymore on a date.

“With who?” he blurted.

Sawamura’s cheeks tinged the slightest bit of pink as he murmured, “Kuroo.”  

All Oikawa could think was ‘finally’ until his brain registered that more details were needed. “When?”  

“Tonight,” Sawamura replied as though confused by the question.

Oikawa huffed an exasperated sigh. “And you’re just now deciding what to wear?”

“It’s just dinner. Nothing big.”

“Nothing—“ Oikawa cut himself off with an irritated grunt. Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he selected “Kuroo-man-shu”, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the stupid bed head to pick up.

“Oikawa what—“  

“Hush Sawa-chan… Kuroo-chan! Glad I caught you. Listen, my exceedingly fashion challenged roommate has to push your date back until tomorrow night.”

Receiving a “what the hell Oikawa” in stereo, Oikawa nimbly dodged Sawamura’s grab at his phone, scurrying through the shared bathroom door which he promptly slammed and locked. “There now we can talk,” he said over the pounding of Sawamura’s fist on the door.  

“What the fuck, Oikawa? Do you know how long it took me to work up the guts and not spill them asking him out?”

“Painfully aware. Really, you two—“

“Then what the hell are you—“

“Kuroo-chan, just trust me. Tomorrow night.”

Kuroo clicked his tongue, anger still bleeding through the earpiece. “Trust you, sure. What are you up to, Tooru?”

Oikawa’s grin was indefatigable; “Ensuring an epic first date that’s been too long in coming. And that reminds me. Think of something more original than dinner. Really, Tetsu-chan, so disappointing.”  

There was a pause, then a sigh. Oikawa could imagine Kuroo rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Fine you interfering brat.”

“Good, have a good night, tomorrow you’ll be thanking me.”

“Uh huh.”  

Unaffected by Kuroo’s abrupt hang-up, Oikawa made his next call.

“To what do I owe the pleasure.”

“Suga-chan, the cat has landed, I repeat the cat has finally landed.”

“On his feet?”

“Barely, but yes.”

“Oh thank god,” Sugawara groaned. “When?”

“It was tonight but I forced it til tomorrow. Think you can manage to get here tonight?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?”

Oikawa smirked. “Excellent.”

* * *

Daichi stood fuming, his captain’s glare doing nothing against the barrier between him and Oikawa. He was so tense that when his phone rang, he jumped. Snatching it from his desk, he felt a throb of anxiety; it was Kuroo.

Why hadn’t he thought to just call him? Stupid.

He answered, voice tense, “Kuroo, it wasn’t me who wanted to cancel tonight it—”

“I know, it’s fine.”  

“It’s not fine! What the hell, let’s just go anyway and—”

“You know it’s not that easy. Once Oikawa gets a thing into his head, he’s relentless. It should be considered a flaw.”

Daichi nodded, a long sigh pushing out of his lungs. He could hear the smug smirk on Kuroo’s face when he said, “You sound so disappointed. That’s gratifying.”

“I could easily cancel tomorrow night.”

“Don’t try to be coy, Sawamura, we both know you won’t.”

“Try me.”

There was a beat of silence and then Kuroo’s voice came back, his confidence knocked down a notch; “Seriously?”

Daichi managed a laugh. “No, but it’s gratifying to hear you so disappointed.”

He swore Kuroo was pouting as he said, “That was not disappointment, it was curiosity.”

“Careful, that’s killed a cat once or twice.”

“Haha, very funny.” The words may have been meant sarcastically, but Kuroo was chuckling.  

Daichi felt a warm fondness build at the sound, spreading from his chest outward, covering his body in tingles. All from a sound he’d heard countless times. Damn.

“You still with me?” Kuroo asked.

“Yeah, I—”

But Daichi stopped when Oikawa emerged from the bathroom looking far too pleased with himself. It made Daichi’s temple start pounding again.  

“Sawamura?” came Kuroo’s voice again.

“I’m fine. Just gotta deal with this idiot.”

“Hide the body well, I don’t want our first date to be me visiting you in prison.”  

Daichi hung up without reply. While it was true talking to Kuroo had calmed him enough to stop himself from throttling Oikawa then and there, the sight of the man with such a satisfied and conniving look on his face had him clenching his fist. “You got a lotta nerve, you know that?”

Oikawa scoffed, walking past Daichi, not so much as looking over his shoulder. “Just as I told Kuroo-chan, you’ll be thanking me. Or us, rather.”

“Us?” Daichi queried, eyebrow arching.

Oikawa grinned again. “Your left and right hand men are coming to, well, lend their hands.”  

Daichi was torn between elation to see his best friends and fear of why they were coming. He took a step closer to Oikawa. “What did you do?”

“You’ll see, Sawa-chan,” Oikawa singsonged.  

A couple of hours later, a knock at the door announced the arrival of Oikawa’s two partners in crime. “Really Asahi,” Daichi asked as they hugged hello, “Suga I expect to fall in line with Oikawa’s shit, but you?”

“Excuse to see you?” he said with a little shrug, the barest hint of guilt in his eyes.

“Flattery will—”

“Get you everywhere with me, Azu-chan,” Oikawa put in, batting his eyelashes, making the former wing spiker blush.

“Oi, stop flirting! You’ve caused enough trouble as it is,” Daichi snapped. He flinched when Suga flicked his forehead. “Ouch! What was that for?”

“For being a grump! We haven’t seen you in how many weeks? The least you could do is be happy about our being here in your time of need!”

“Time of… Suga, I had a date tonight! A date that this idiot,” Daichi thumbed towards Oikawa, ignoring his squawk of indignation, “canceled. Which reminds me,” he turned to face his roommate, “what the hell was all that about me being ‘fashion challenged’?”

“Exceedingly fashion challenged. If you’re going to quote me, get it right,” Oikawa huffed. Suga snorted, Daichi fumed and Asahi tried to look busy doing nothing. “And it means just what it says on the label, which by the way, you don’t own enough of them and need to rectify that.”

“Oikawa,” Daichi spoke slowly as though speaking to a child which at the moment felt accurate, “I don’t have money to go buying new clothes. Especially since the ones I own are fine.”

To his consternation, it was Suga who put in, “If you mean fine as in ‘threadbare’ I’ll grant you that but really, Daichi...” He took out an old shirt, his eyebrow cocked up.

Daich crossed his arms, working hard not to pout. “That’s one example and of course you would pick the worst one.”

“Just to make the point that this should not be hanging in your closet. It should be a dust rag.”

“It _is_ a bit faded Daichi,” Asahi added, picking at the sleeve.

Daichi whipped his head to look at him. “Since when you do you give a crap about fashion?”

Asahi flushed a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “I read things. I mean, it’s not like I want to be single forever.”

“See, Sawa-chan? If even Azu-chan in all his manly glory can understand the value of putting effort into his appearance, surely you can?”

“Manly glory?” Asahi muttered, yelping when Daichi smacked his stomach with the back of his hand. Rubbing the offended area he went on in a surprisingly steady voice, “All we’re saying is, a first date is a big deal. Especially between you and Kuroo-san.” He shrugged. “So maybe try a little harder?”

Daichi looked at them, one by one, the furrow of his brow morphing from annoyance to uncertainty. “I mean, I didn’t think it was a big deal because it’s Kuroo. We’re just… him and me. What, now suddenly because he asked me out I have to change?”

Suga laid his hands on Daichi’s shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze. “Dai, we’re not saying you have to change. All we’re suggesting—”

“You mispronounced coercing,” Daichi interjected.

“All we’re saying,” Suga went on emphatically, “is you should get something new and nice. It’s what most people do when they go on dates.”

“News flash, Suga, I’m not most people.”

“And aren’t we all glad of that,” Oikawa put in. Daichi waited for the teasing grin, the wink, anything to give light to the tease. It never came.

“Just trust us? You really think we’d do this if we didn’t think it was important?” Suga asked, voice soft, persuasion threading through his words.

Daichi sighed. “For the record, yes, because you’re a little shit who would use any excuse to come and torture me. But,” he gave a wry grin, “you both have always had my back.”

“Hey, what about me?” Oikawa whined, a pout on his lips.

“You’re more a thorn in my side.”

“Rude, Sawa-chan. And here I was all set to be your sugar daddy tomorrow.”

“Excuse me?” Daichi asked, eyes wide.

“Get your head out of the gutter! I only meant I was gonna pay for your new clothes.”

“Oikawa, no you’re not.”

“Well, not anymore since someone was so rude to me. Thorn in his side he says.”

They spent the remainder of the evening catching up, a bittersweet nostalgia mixing with amusement in Daichi’s chest as Suga and Asahi expounded on the antics of their former team now that the next generation was fully implemented. He made a mental note to schedule a visit home soon. Despite his thankfulness to be in university, playing with Kuroo and Oikawa, and making new friends, he missed Miyagi terribly. A piece of his heart would always be there, with those crows; _his_ crows.

When they were talked out and slumping for sleep, Daichi rolled out a spare sleeping bag he kept around for such situations. He made way to wake up Asahi, already dozing where he sat on Oikawa’s bed, leaned against the wall. “It’s ok Sawa-chan,” Oikawa said, laying a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Where will you sleep then?” Daichi asked.

Oikawa gave him a look then sighed. “Hopeless,” he muttered, moving to the bed, guiding Asahi to his side and then shocking the hell out of Daichi when he crawled into bed with him.

Ok then.

“Just so we’re clear, you know Kuroo asked you on a date because he likes you? Not just as a fri—oof!” Daichi cut off Suga’s attempt at humor with an elbow to the stomach.

“For that, you get the floor,” Daichi said. Suga, of course, didn’t listen, rushing headlong to Daichi’s bed and diving under the covers, giving a cheeky grin. Daichi sighed, rolled his eyes, then tucked himself into his sleeping bag on the floor.

* * *

The next morning, Oikawa woke at dawn as he usually did. He made to get up only to find a rather impressive forearm wrapped around his stomach. A slow smile pulled onto his face. Azu-chan would be mortified as much as Oikawa was pleased. But, today was not the day for distractions, fun as they may be. Carefully, he extracted himself from the iron hold (really the man was ridiculously strong) and started prepping for the day.

By the time he was done, the former crows were awake, all in various stages of dress. Asahi still looked sleepy and a little confused. “Oikawa-san, did you—”

He just smiled and Asahi blushed a deep red.

From behind, Oikawa heard a deep sigh. “Can we please get this over with? I have a feeling I’m going to need a recuperative nap at the end of it.”

“What are you, forty, Dai?” Suga laughed.

“Shut up.”

They decided on breakfast out at a cafe and then Oikawa was leading (dragging in Sawamura’s case) the trio to one of his favorite menswear boutiques. Unsurprisingly, the makeover subject baulked at entering. “Oikawa, there’s no way I can afford clothes from here.”

Oikawa turned, up to the task of heading off Sawamura before he self-destructed. “Sawa-chan, they have the best options. If you’re going to get new, you should get the best. Besides, it’s on me!”

Sawamura narrowed his eyes, setting his stance a bit more firmly and shook his head. “I’m not letting you pay for my clothes, Oikawa. I hate owing people.”

“So do I, this is a gift. Consider it a backlog of birthday and Christmas.”

“That’s not how that works, Oikawa. And last night you said you weren’t going to, remember?”

Oikawa clapped his hands to Sawamura’s shoulders, looking him square in the face. “Sawamura, it’s one outfit, not my firstborn. Just,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “let me do this for you. Ok?”

The hustle and bustle of the street became more pronounced as more people arrived to do their weekend shopping. Out of the corner of his eye, Oikawa could see Suga with his arms crossed, consternation etched on his brow while Asahi clenched his hands together, worry lines on his face. But Sawamura’s eyes never strayed from Oikawa’s face. He wasn’t sure what the other man was looking for in his eyes but whatever it was, when he finally found it, he nodded.

“Fine. One outfit. That’s it,” Sawamura said firmly.

“Of course only one. You think I’m made of money?” Oikawa laughed, tossing his head.

Sawamura didn’t give a reply and before he could manage to back out completely, Oikawa grabbed his wrist, tugging him into the store. “Ok, so we need a whole ensemble. Let’s start with jeans,” Oikawa said, heading to that display.

“I’ll look at some sweaters and shirts,” Suga offered, already moving towards the racks.

“And I can look for shoes,” Asahi put in, picking up a pair of nice boots.

“Excellent, Sawa-chan, assume the position on that bench. We’ll be back. No running away now.”

“Who are you the fashion police? Gonna cuff me?” Sawamura chuckled.

“That’s for Kuroo to do after he sees all my hard work come to fruition.”

It took longer than Daichi would prefer but the troublesome trio finally returned, arms so ladened with clothing and shoes his eyes bugged out.  “Is all this really necessary?” he asked, standing to give Asahi a hand before he lost two pairs of shoes to the ground.

“The larger the sample size, the more quickly we’ll find what works. Now less talk, more action. Come on,” Oikawa insisted, dumping his pile of clothes into Daichi’s arms. He pushed against his back, guiding him into the dressing room, Suga and Asahi in their wake.

With their help, it took little time to set up the room barely bigger than a closet with a handful of outfits for him to try.

“No excuses, I want to see everything. Put it on, come out and show.”

Daichi rolled his eyes at Oikawa but nodded. It was just easier to agree. He shooed them out then set about stripping to his underwear. A glance at his phone showed he still had hours before his date. He wasn’t sure why he was worried, it was just Kuroo. But all this hullabaloo was beginning to make him doubt that assessment. Was it really that big of a deal? If his increased heart palpitations were anything to go by, it was certainly turning into one. But he couldn’t determine if that was because he was just now really grasping the reality of the situation or if it was because his best friends and roommate were so invested.

At least they were supportive, he supposed.

Shaking his head he set about putting on the first outfit. He wasn’t sure of the criteria Oikawa, Suga and Asahi were going by, but he promised himself that no amount of coercion would make him get something he didn’t _feel_ good in, looks be damned.

* * *

Kuroo sat frozen in place, his hands clenching the fabric of the shirt he was about to try on. Of all the places for Sawamura and his fashion police escort to end up at! And what the hell were Suga-chan and Azumane-san doing here anyway?  

The night before had been irritating to say the least. With his plans suddenly canceled, he’d spent it alone in his room. Which, of course, meant he was over-analyzing everything including where he should be taking Sawamura since dinner apparently was too boring.  It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the significance in this shift of their… friendship? Relationship? But until Oikawa had stuck his perfectly shaped nose into it, Kuroo had at least managed to get his heart to settle down. It was back to beating the rumba on his ribcage.

Not to mention with the knowledge Sawamura was getting new clothes, suddenly everything Kuroo owned felt too… too everything. Too casual, too fancy, too not “right.” So he decided to use some of his week’s pay from his part-time job at the music shop to get something new. Maybe just a shirt or possibly a jacket.

And now here was Sawamura at the same place, trying on clothes. He should have left, but two things held him back. One was the fact Oikawa and his minions would definitely see him but the more accurate was he couldn’t resist the temptation to see what they’d picked for Sawamura to wear.

Bending forward, and feeling just the littlest bit pervy, Kuroo found he was able to see Sawamura's changing area through a small gap in the curtain of his own. Slightly askance, he judged himself to be out the direct line of sight should Sawamura look across the hall but even at the risk of getting caught, his curiosity won out. He was going to stay.  

Luck was with him, it seemed. It appeared he and Sawamura were the only two in the dressing room allowing him the luxury of hearing when Sawamura’s curtain was pulled aside without him having to make it obvious he was watching.

His mouth tilted into a small grin when his ears caught Sawamura’s little grunts and shuffles, odds sounds Kuroo never really considered that accompanied trying on clothes. Heart beating much faster than should have been necessary, he held his breath. Distantly he felt bad, spying on Sawamura like this, but he justified to himself that he was seeing what their friends and the general public would when Sawamura stepped out fully clothed. It wasn’t like he was peeping at him actually changing.

The sound of clanking curtain rings ripped him out of his moral dilemma and he peered out through the cloth gap, his breath catching when Sawamura came into full view. He had to hand it to Oikawa (or maybe it was Suga) but whoever had chosen that ensemble knew what they were doing. His upper body was enticingly highlighted by a tight-knit forest green sweater while dark wash denim jeans accentuated the curve of his ass so perfectly, Kuroo may have whimpered. Black boots completed the look but with the way Sawamura winced, Kuroo wondered if they were maybe too tight.

“What do we think of this?” he heard Sawamura ask as he exited into the waiting area.

Suga’s voice carried in through the passageway. “Damn Daichi, you look almost respectable.”

“Almost?”

“Well, I mean, it’s typically bad form to go around making women’s ovaries explode but hey, you do you.”

Kuroo had to press his knuckles into his mouth to keep from guffawing at the sound Sawamura made at that. Well, it wasn’t like Suga was wrong.

“Ovary explosions aside, it’s a good start. But we have a good way to go,” Oikawa put in.

“You lot are horrible,” Sawamura muttered as he re-entered the main hall and headed to his room.  

Kuroo had shut the curtain, tucking his feet back and worked to keep his breathing even and quiet. This was both the best and worst idea ever.

By straining his ears, Kuroo caught a few muttered curses and snippets of Sawamura talking to himself, a trait he didn’t until that moment know he had. It was rather cute... until he managed to catch some of the actual words.

“They’re either good liars or blind. As if I’d wear that in public. I’d have to spend a month at the gym first.”

What the hell was he talking about? Kuroo’s brow furrowed in confused concern. Did… did Sawamura actually believe he was too fat to wear that? It was the only conclusion Kuroo could come to and it unsettled him. He wasn’t used to hearing self-deprecation from Sawamura’s lips. Not even in jest. He was confidence personified and it hurt a little to hear him talk about himself like that.

Kuroo didn’t have time for further consideration of this new discovery as once again the curtain pulled back. The first thing Kuroo thought was ‘gangster’ and not in the hoodlum manner. No, Sawamura looked like a damn crime boss Kuroo would eagerly wipe away his morality for. A crisp, white short-sleeved button down (tight in very much all the right places) was tucked into black pinstripe pants but the pièce de résistance were the _suspenders_ fit snug over his broad shoulders. Black leather shoes rounded out the look and Kuroo wondered where he’d garnered this amount of karma.

“Oh wow,” he heard Asahi say as Sawamura went out. “That… is a look.”

“A bad look?” Sawamura asked.

“No, a very, very good one. Seriously, Sawamura, you should just quit school and become a model. My god.”

“Very funny, Oikawa.” There was a pause before he went on, “I think this might be a little much for a first date, don’t you? If anything, Kuroo will laugh at me.”

Why would Sawamura think that? He looked amazing, better than amazing. He looked like a fucking fantasy Kuroo didn’t even know he had but was willing to explore if the opportunity presented itself.

“Dai, if Kuroo were to laugh at you in that, it would be in delirious happiness. Do you even look in the mirror before you come out here?” Suga said.

“Look, I’m just not comfortable. This isn’t me,” Sawamura said, finality in his tone.

“Ok, no problem. Go for the next one,” Oikawa replied easily.

Kuroo sank back against the wall, his stomach twisting a little. He wanted so badly to go to Sawamura, to assure him that Suga was right and that he had nothing to be ashamed of about his body. Not that his body was all Kuroo wanted. Not by a long shot. Sawamura Daichi being a fine specimen of manhood was a decidedly added bonus on top of all his other amazing qualities. Like his loyalty and his unwavering tenacity and his dry sense of humor. Like his warm laugh and the way he looked you in the eye when speaking to you.

Like the way he made Kuroo feel as if he could do anything just by smiling at him.

“What the hell.” Sawamura’s annoyed voice recalled Kuroo to the moment at hand. He peeked out again, his mouth watering when the object of his affection stepped out clad in tight jeans (goodness they were snug) with a tan vest covering a light blue button-down, the top button undone; or missing.

“Oikawa, you can’t be serious about this one,” Sawamura said.

“Nothing wrong with showing a little skin, Sawa-chan.”

“I look ridiculous!”

“You would have been showing more skin with that worn out dinosaur you’d planned on wearing.”

“That’s bull—”

“Daichi, just change if you don’t like it,” Suga cut in quickly.

“I still think he gave me this just to fuck around,” Sawamura grumbled.

And so it went on and on until Kuroo decided that—were he to ever get rich—he was coming back here to buy Sawamura every stitch of clothing he tried on. A thought that, when he mulled it over, revealed more than even he had first realized. He hadn’t even been on an official date with Sawamura yet and he was already planning for the future.

He better make sure it was an amazing date.

“So, which one?” Sawamura asked and Kuroo, despite all his spying decided in that split second he still wanted to be surprised. He plugged his ears, only just remembering he shouldn’t hum lest he give his presence away. He could still hear Sawamura speaking but the words were just muffled enough that he didn’t know what he was saying.

They reached a consensus and Kuroo watched as Sawamura exited the dressing room. Tension left his body now that he didn’t need to be careful of movement or sound. Looking at his options, he grabbed the tan long coat with the lapel collar. It would be a good accent piece, working well with the copious amount of black he had in his closet. Cautiously he headed to the dressing room exit, peeking out. They were gone. He let out the breath he was holding and made way to the counter.

Item purchased, he headed back to his dorm room, mind swirling with images of the vision Sawamura made in so many of the clothes he’d tried on. It pained Kuroo to know how critical he was of his body, which to his mind was completely unfounded. Well, he would just have to make Sawamura see the error of his thinking.

Not an easy task, but Kuroo had never backed down from a challenge. Especially ones given to him by Sawamura.

* * *

Daichi was exhausted. He never knew how tiring trying on clothes could be. That and spending an entire day with Suga and Oikawa giving him shit and Oikawa flirting with Asahi was… a lot. He’d barely had time for a quick nap and an even quicker shower, cursing when he realized he had no idea how to style his new haircut. Really, how did he get talked into these things? Oikawa had chastised him as he fixed his hair but when he was done, even Daichi had to admit he looked good.

He didn’t say it out loud of course but Oikawa just gave that knowing smile letting him know he wasn’t fooled at all.

Daichi was supposed to wait at his room for Kuroo to pick him up but with so much nervous energy he couldn’t sit still. In an effort to calm down, he decided to walk to the university front gates where they would need to pick up a taxi anyway. He texted Kuroo as much and to his surprise, received no argument. Maybe Kuroo was just as nervous as him. Strangely, that immediately began to calm him.

“Bye Sawa-chan, don’t do anything I wouldn’t on a first date,” Oikawa hummed.

Daichi shot him a look of exasperation.

Suga clapped him on the shoulder. “You look great. It’s gonna be fine. Now, go have a good time.”

“Suga’s right, just relax and enjoy it,” Asahi put in.

“I was doing just fine until you lot blew everything out of proportion.” He sighed, running a hand through his freshly cut hair, the buzz at the back still feeling odd to him. For the first time in a long while, he thanked his body’s overactive heat production. It was going to be cool that night. Just before he left, he looked over his shoulder at his friends. “But thanks anyway,” he said with a smile, then walked out the door.

The chill of the night did him some good, cooling down his neck and face that he could not get to stop flushing. Which was ridiculous. Because this was just Kuroo. Only now, Daichi knew how inane that thought had been. Kuroo wasn’t just anyone to him. He was… a lot more. A lot more than Daichi had words to explain, even to himself. Maybe that was why he was so nervous. What if Kuroo still didn’t think this was a big deal? But that didn’t make sense. He wouldn’t have asked Daichi out on a date if that were the case.

* * *

Kuroo stood just outside the front gate, working not to pace. He felt ridiculous being this nervous but when Sawamura had told him he wanted to meet him rather than be picked up, he couldn’t contain his sigh of relief. One, he didn’t revel in the idea of picking him up when not just Oikawa but also Suga-chan and Azumane-san were present. Two, the walk alone from his dorm gave him time to regain some calm. Calm he was rapidly losing the more seconds ticked by bringing about Sawamura’s arrival.

The scrape of a shoe against gravel had him spinning on his heel and his heart leaping into his throat.

In the rapidly dimming sunlight, Sawamura emerged onto the sidewalk, a vision in dark denim and black  _leather_ . He wasn’t sure if it was something to do with the failing light level but the look was definitely working for him tenfold what it did in the store. What surprised Kuroo the most, was his hair. Gone was the traditional shorn cut he usually sported replaced by a damn sexy  _undercut_. He swallowed, his fingers twitching and he knew it was going to take him a lot of self-control not to touch it.

Then Sawamura turned, revealing a rich maroon button down and Kuroo was sure he stopped breathing. His smile, initially bright and warm, diminished when his eyes landed on Kuroo. Well, that wasn’t a good sign.

Kuroo moved forward, his long strides easily closing the distance between them. “Whatsamatter Sawamura? Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts already?” he asked working to keep his tone light.

Sawamura hesitated before admitting, “The only thing I’m second guessing is my outfit. Damn Kuroo, you look… just… wow…”

Kuroo felt a flush crawling up his neck to his face. He was gratified, of course, but he hadn’t wanted his efforts to make Sawamura’s feel like his own were in vain. “You do realize you struck me speechless there for a moment right?” he asked. There was no tease, no smirky grin. It may have been silly but he just knew Sawamura couldn’t take that right now. He needed the boldface truth.

So Kuroo was gonna give it to him. “You look fantastic, Sawamura. Seriously, I think a little of my soul left my body when you stepped out here.”

“Kuroo shut up—”

Kuroo grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “No, I’m serious.” He took a chance, laying his hand on the side of Sawamura’ face, locking their gazes together. “You. Look. Amazing.” He couldn’t keep himself from sliding his hand back, finger teasing the edge of the buzz. “I like the haircut,” he murmured, “it’s really sexy.”

Sawamura’s face lit up like a stop light. Kuroo saw the working of his throat as he swallowed, his lips parting ever so slightly and Kuroo damn near leaned down to kiss him then and there. With tremendous effort, he let go, stepping out of Sawamura’s space just as their Uber driver arrived. “Come on, we don’t want to be late,” he said, opening the car door and gesturing for Sawamura to get inside.

He did so without further argument and after taking a deep breath, Kuroo followed, shutting the door and giving the address to the driver. Kuroo looked at Sawamura who was staring out the window, his jaw tense. Slowly Kuroo slid his hand across the bench seat, fingers gently rubbing against Sawamura’s hand. He twitched, turning automatically to look at Kuroo. “It’s just us now, no meddlers. Let’s enjoy the evening, huh?” Kuroo asked, heart thundering.

After a beat, Sawamura nodded, allowing his hand to be taken and Kuroo squeezed it again, relieved when he saw Sawamura’s shoulders relax.

“So where’re we going?” Sawamura asked, thumb tracing back and forth over the back of Kuroo’s hand.

Kuroo allowed his teasing smirk to spread across his lips. “Nope, not tellin’.”

“I could always ask the driver,” Sawamura said. “Excuse me—mphm!”

Kuroo had lunged across the backseat, hand covering Sawamura’s mouth. “I know you’re rocking the bad boy look—which apparently is a thing for me—but behave, yeah? Let me surprise you.”

Sawamura’s eyes were wide, his breath warm against Kuroo’s palm. He gave a minuscule nod, prompting Kuroo to let go but he didn’t move away. “Kuroo?” Sawamura asked quietly.

“Sorry, just… damn,” Kuroo sighed, finally moving back.

“What’s—”

“We’ve arrived,” the driver said, the faintest hint of amusement in her tone. Kuroo glanced at the rearview mirror, catching her gaze. She gave a wink and he felt his cheeks heating again.

When the car had stopped, Sawamura exited on his side and the driver waited until the door was shut before saying with an encouraging smile, “Good luck.”

Kuroo returned her smile, giving his thanks (along with a generous tip) then got out. Looking across the top of the car, he saw Sawamura standing staring with his mouth open at the large red and yellow ship they were about to embark on.

He turned, eyes wide and sparkling in the glow of the city lights and Kuroo didn’t need to question it anymore; he was in love. 

“Kuroo, this is… I mean… This is too much!”

Kuroo shook his head, chuckling and taking his hand again. “According to Oikawa, I needed to come up with something better than dinner. Jokes on him, though, they serve dinner. An all you can eat buffet.”

If possible, Sawamura’s eyes glowed even bright and Kuroo committed the sight of his pure joy to memory.

They boarded, receiving instructions for how the buffet worked, where the lines started and also the itinerary for the evening, including a live kabuki-style show along with a tour around Tokyo Bay. He figured by now Sawamura had already seen most of the high ticket items included to cater to actual tourists but as Kuroo listed off Tokyo Tower, Sky Tree and Rainbow Bridge, he found he was wrong.

Jackpot, he thought, as they made their way through round one of the buffet. They found seats outside to enjoy the sites, the cold of the wind making Kuroo exceedingly glad he opted for his black turtleneck and thick black jeans, his new tan coat doing a remarkably good job of keeping him warm.

Sawamura was engrossed in his meal, making the cutest humming noises of appreciation that Kuroo had to bite his lip not to smile too wide. Instead, he asked, “So, was today as bad as you thought it would be?”

Swallowing his bite, Sawamura let out a chuckle. “It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t too bad. Oikawa was in his element, that’s for sure. Having Suga and Asahi there was nice, even if it was at the expense of mocking my clothing tastes.”

Kuroo nodded, saying without thought, “This was a good choice, fits better than the vest.”

Daichi stiffened, snapping, “What?”

“What?” Kuroo countered, his face rapidly draining of color.

“You said something about a vest,” Daichi said, voice tense.  

“...No, I said this really fits your chest. Well.”

* * *

Daichi crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. “Either you tell me the truth, right now, or I’m tossing you overboard. And that water is damn cold, Kuroo.”

Kuroo shifted in his seat, his eyes dropping away for a moment as though he couldn’t manage to look at Daichi. Eventually, he managed, sheepish and apologetic, to admit, “I was at the shop the same time as you. Across the hall and a few rooms down. I, uh, kinda sorta saw everything.”

Daichi’s indignation bubbled close to anger at that. “Everything?” he asked, laying deep, purposeful strain on the word.

Kuroo waved his hands frantically, nearly knocking his beer off the table. His face flushed scarlet as he insisted, “No, no, no! Not _everything_ , everything. Sawamura, I would never. I mean, I saw everything you tried on.”

He picked up his beer bottle, guzzling the remaining contents as Daichi continue staring at him, disbelief on his face. “How… could you do that?” he asked quietly.

Kuroo looked truly remorseful. He reached across the table and despite his urge to pull away, Daichi let him take his hand in both of his. “I’m really sorry, Sawamura. Truly. I… I know I should have left but, damn it, it was just too tempting to see you in ways I never have before.”

“Because how I am isn’t enough?” Daichi knew it wasn’t a fair question, asked purely to be spiteful but he was angry. A little hurt, in fact, that Kuroo would do something so… pervy.

Kuroo shook his head and Daichi felt a tremble in his hands. “No! You’re beyond enough. More than I deserve. More than I’d ever hoped to have. This, fuck I wasn’t going to go this deep but might as well finish digging the grave.” He took a deep breath, then looked directly in Daichi’s eyes; “I know when I initially asked you to dinner, I made it seem like no big deal. That was mostly so I could get the words out. But this, you, everything between us from the first time we met until this very moment, mean the world to me. You, mean the world to me. And if that’s too much too fast, then I’m sorry, but it’s how I feel. I didn’t ask you out because of your looks or how you dress. I would have been fine with anything as long as it was with you.”

Daichi felt light-headed, unprepared for such a heartfelt declaration. He stood, rounding the table and leaned down, cupping Kuroo’s face. “Me too,” he whispered.

“You forgive me?” Kuroo asked, leaning closer.

Daichi smiled, nuzzling his nose. “Yes, you pervert.”

Kuroo sighed, his hands coming up to cover Daichi’s. “I’m never living that one down, am I?”

“Doubtful, but it’ll be our little secret, hmmm?”

A nod and a grin gave him all the answer he needed. “So… were you gonna kiss me or…”

Daichi smirked, moving out of Kuroo’s space, and calmly walked back to resume his seat. “We’ll see how the rest of the night goes,” he teased.

Kuroo was absolutely pouting but he didn’t say any more. Daichi chuckled, reaching across the table to take his hand. “But chances are good,” he assured. And when Kuroo smiled, he knew he was done for. He’d found all he was looking for or could ever want.

**Author's Note:**

> **Daichi**   
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> **Kuroo**  
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> [Daichi's Hair Cut](https://finnthebunneh.tumblr.com/post/177709884747/recently-read-a-manga-where-the-protagonist-had)  
> [Date Location](https://www.samuraiship.tokyo?)


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